“Alright, deep breath,” Powder Brush told herself, pausing to calm her nerves. She took a small mirror out of her makeup kit, looked herself in the eye. [i]Relax, everything will be okay. She’s your sister, after all. Big smiles, now![/i] She grinned brightly into the mirror. She thought further: [i]Oh, right;[/i] she’s [i]your sister,[/i] then stopped grinning with a shudder. Her sister was terrifying, but she loved her family, despite their uncompromising lifestyle. [i]There’s no way they’d even recognize me.[/i] She examined her brown mane, ran a hoof down her cream-colored flank, where she’d donned the cutie mark of a powder brush to fit her name. Powder smiled sadly. [i]I better change before...well, you know. Yikes, not looking forward to this.[/i] She held the mirror at foreleg’s length. After ten years in this body, she’d nearly forgotten how her old body appeared. She tried to put a clear picture of her twin sister into her head for reference. When she was fairly certain she had it, she shut her eyes and clenched her teeth. There was a green flash and a tingling sensation. [i]Haven’t tried[/i] that [i]in a while,[/i] she thought grimly. She waited, breath held in her chest, then slowly opened one eye at a time. She shivered. Her forelegs were black, chitinous, and covered with holes. [i]Steady,[/i] she breathed. [i]It’s only for a little while.[/i] Through the tiny mirror she inspected the rest of her transformation. [i]Just like Sis,[/i] she thought with a mix of warmth and a twinge of regret—a salt-sweet flavor that reminded her of saltwater candy. She flattened her expression. [i]Except for the smile, perhaps.[/i] Shaking herself, she faced the entrance to the hive. It was grim, and bore down upon her like it wanted to swallow her whole. She could hear chittering and hissing from deep within, thousands of drones and workers. [i]This place still looks creepy as ever,[/i] she thought. Despite its blatant aversion towards neighbors, it was still unmistakably, yet distantly, home. Residual doubts hung in the corners of her mind. [i]Will they still listen to me? Does she command them completely? Will [/i]she[i] listen to me? Being her sister should count for something, right?[/i] She forced herself to ignore those thoughts. There were bigger things at stake than herself. There was nothing else for it. In she went. [center]***[/center] Powder was surprised at first. There was a changeling feast celebrating her return, rare even while she reigned as princess. Though, as Powder and her sister spoke, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the whole show was a tactful political facade. Chrysalis knew how to put on a good mask as well as Powder. “Many of our subjects were split up or lost in that ill-fated raid on Saddle Arabia,” Chrysalis said coolly. “It took months for me to bring them back to the hive on my own.” “I wish I could have helped you,” replied Powder soberly. Chrysalis made a grin that was toxified by her fangs. “I was convinced that you were lost to us, Carapace.” Carapace. Powder cringed at that name, but hid it beneath a weak grin. She was still looking for the right time to say what she needed to say. Instead, she eventually replied, “I’m grateful for the feast.” She wasn’t. Changeling feasts were abhorrent rituals where the hive absorbed nourishment from their Queen, worshiping her as a life-giving god. Not given freely as love was truly intended, but as a sinister bargain. Not as she had experienced among ponies, when they had sheltered her and tirelessly tended her wounds. Changelings never knew love like that. “There is something we need to discuss,” she said, sighing heavily. “You have my ear,” replied Chrysalis. “It’s about the future of this hive. We are deteriorating, dying under an old regime.” “Oh?” It was a stiff, unflavored reply. “I've discovered new ways to sustain us. Please, for the sake of our hive, hear me.” Powder felt her sister’s eyes on her, imagined for a moment that she was looking at a reflection of herself that begged: “Please, don’t do what you’re about to do.” But she did anyway. The hive’s chittering ceased. All the thousands of turquoise eyes in the room turned to the brown-maned pony sitting beside the Queen. Powder felt her love flow freely into Chrysalis. She felt nothing in return, but she continued. Chrysalis shook her head. There was no remorse or passion. Only disappointment. “Oh, sister,” she said, “I’d forgotten why I loathed your presence.”